Spatium Itinerantur
While the flesh is set
on becoming bone,
the soul slowly starts
to breathe on its own,
a view from up above,
the life you lived,
unwrapped in seconds,
like a very last birthday gift.
You fly past the sun,
moon, and stars.
Like a drop of water,
you see your home:
a blue marble
lost
in the gigantic void of space
that you can hold
in your hand
in its entirety.
A familiar voice
sounds from behind you,
full of grace:
"Welcome, my child,
to your final resting place."